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The Old Grange

Sybil was having a bad day and although she understood the mood of the Old Grange, it was tedious of it to be so petulant and uncooperative. She loved the house and despite its sulking she was determined it needed more than her love and devotion after all these years that had passed in her absence. She was back and to her distress the Grange was suffering badly from a lack of care and attention. It deserved better.

She thought back to the days when the house had been much larger , more imposing building which had served as the local court house. It had been abandoned at some point and the stone had been used for houses in the local village. The remaining house had absorbed harsh judgments of the time into its very fabric and no doubt suffered grievously in its decline in importance over the centuries. Still, it contained many of the original features and it would make a wonderful family home once again

The three couples the agents sent along had proved totally unsuitable. There were discussions about modernisation, whatever that meant. She could feel the house shudder and groan as they discussed their plans to gut the inside and each couple cut short their viewing in the end as the house grew more and depressed and depressing. The Grange’s anger spread everywhere like an invisible mist of poison. Even Sybil felt it and she was accustomed to the tantrums.

She had wisely kept out of the way, as she mostly did, when the agent showed people around but she doubted any of the prospective buyers would even consider making it their home. There were no more viewings scheduled but she had high hopes when she saw the couple drive up to the front of the house an hour later. The expression on their faces showed their appreciation of the house she had always loved. She went down the staircase to open the door, praying for the house to behave.

They had three viewings today and Jo was rushing her breakfast and trying to tell him about the dream. It was apparently about some house, although she couldn’t remember the details now she was awake but it was perfect – just what they wanted. She was sure she would recognise it when she saw it. Andrew was a bit concerned by this. He knew there was no such thing as the “perfect” house, and wondered if she was doomed to disappointment.

Jo and Andrew found it quite by accident. Lost in the countryside on the way home from looking at their third house of the day. Andrew was not in the least bit surprised that Jo didn’t like any of them. The undulating countryside was spread before them as they crested the hill and there in the valley below stood the most beautiful house. It looked like a small but perfectly formed remains of a manor house, with a couple of outbuildings and a very overgrown garden. He looked at Jo in the driving seat who was holding her breath. She then excitedly pointed out the stone mullioned windows and Tudor chimney stacks. It was apparently the house she dreamt of last night. The neglect was obvious but the Grange drew Jo like a magnet.

The solid front door opened as Jo and Andrew approached and an old, very elaborately dressed lady in grey velvet stretched out her arms in welcome.

“You’ve arrived at last. Do come in. Welcome to the Old Grange. I’m Sybil, ”

Andrew extended his hand but Sybil had already turned back into the hall. Jo shrugged her shoulders enquiring at Andrew. He shrugged back and they both walked into the house.

“The staircase and flagstone floor in the hallway are original.” Sybil informed them, as she led the way into the beautiful drawing room with a huge stone fireplace. It looked so different now, she thought, gracious and welcoming, as they continued the tour through house. This morning it looked depressingly dark and dingy. It was such a relief, the Grange obviously liked this couple and so did she. Sybil continued ahead as she glided almost silently up the staircase on feet encased in grey silk slippers.

Jo and Andrew responded to the atmosphere and could see beyond the shabby curtains and neglected wood panelling. The Grange was a perfect family home. Sybil tactfully left them in the kitchen alone with the agents details on the oak table.

“Jo, please don’t get your hopes up.” He picked up the details. “It doesn’t say here how much they want for it and it really does need a fair bit of work”

They discussed the top price they could what they would do to restore the house to its former state, and how much they wanted their children to grow up in this house. Sybil, shamelessly eavesdropping, beamed in satisfaction at this confirmation of their suitability. On her return they had a number of questions about the price and other potential purchasers which she brushed aside.

“You’ll be happy here, and The Grange is yours if you want it. Just contact the agents and they will deal with all that side of things.”

“I’ll leave you two to wander around by yourselves. Do let yourself out when you are ready. If you follow the lane along for a couple of miles you can drop in to their office to discuss the details.” She vanished with a farewell and a smile.

They wanted around in a daze for another half an hour but didn’t see Sybil again. They looked back at the house and it shimmered in the last rays of the autumn sunlight. Solid and substantial it was still weaving its magic and they found it difficult to leave.

The agent was puzzled but followed instructions as Andrew made an offer. The vendor’s solicitor was immediately contacted and agreed to the sale.

Your offer has been accepted, and here are details of his solicitor, who according to the instructions from a Mr. Hardcastle who owns the Old Grange, has complete authority in this matter. ”

So who is Sybil, the elderly lady who showed us round the house? Jo asked. “Is she his wife?”

“I’ve no idea. We were under the impression that the house has been unoccupied for some years, and no one was there when I showed some people round earlier today.”

Since they hadn’t asked the agent felt he was under no obligation to mention why it had been empty for so long, and why despite their best efforts over the last few years the Old Grange had attracted not one single offer. Times were hard and a sale was a sale.

Still in a daze, Jo and Andrew drove home. They both tried hard to describe Sybil but somehow her appearance was hard to pin down. They remembered her kindness, but the rest of her was insubstantial. Sybil had in fact said very little, merely pointing out the rooms and remaining in the background as they looked round. Andrew had his own ideas on the matter but if Jo was happy, he was happy and the house was indeed a bargain at the price they had offered.